


happy new year

by doctormissy



Series: What if...? [7]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 9 Days Christmas Writing Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Domestic, Established Relationship, Food, M/M, New Year's Eve, Time Lord James Bond, james is one of them, the doctor's children are here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormissy/pseuds/doctormissy
Summary: ‘Put on a proper bespoke suit,’ Q’s boyfriend had told him. ‘We have special visitors today, darling.’ As if he could forget. The suit James has had made for him was uncomfortably snug and colourless, but he’s put it on nonetheless. His boyfriend’s sister was Lady President of a planet fifty times larger than Earth, after all.And James had invited her, the Doctor, and Missy to spend New Year's Eve with them.





	happy new year

**Author's Note:**

> i was supposed to write this on 1/1 for my christmas challenge, but same as last year, i'm ~~a bit~~ late. it's silly. and weird. and it won't make sense unless you've read [random encounters (don't happen)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11508420) and maybe the next work in the series, too, although that one isn't finished yet...
> 
> whatever. enjoy!

 

‘Would you mind it if my sisters spent New Year’s Eve with us?’ James’ question had been sudden and unexpected. Q remembered the look he’d given him then.

He knew it had been an idiotic question. He knew he had one sister, at least. But he’d asked anyway, ‘You have sisters?’

James had stirred under his weight. He had adjusted his pillow and turned to the film they’d been watching. ‘James Bond doesn’t. I do,’ he’d answered. ‘And a brother, too. You’ve met one of them. You should better call the other one “my lady”.’ He had laughed.

Q didn’t remember what he’d said next. Maybe he’d laughed as well.  

 

He wasn’t laughing anymore. It was 9:12 PM, New Year’s Eve.

‘Put on a proper bespoke suit,’ his boyfriend had told him. ‘We have special visitors today, darling.’ As if he could forget. The suit James has had made for him was uncomfortably snug and colourless, but he’s put it on nonetheless. His boyfriend’s sister was Lady President of a planet fifty times larger than Earth, after all.

It was strange. But Q loved him, so he got along with it. He loved James Bond, or Kaston, or what was his actual name. Nothing could change that. It did not matter where he came from.

At least he, the impossible man, started to make sense.

Q wandered into the kitchen. James was spreading something red and spicy on baguette slices and decorating it with cheese roses and mint leaves. Q came to him from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist. ‘Can I have a taste?’ he asked.

‘Eager, are you, darling?’ Q could hear the smirk in his words, even if he didn’t see it. ‘Wait for midnight.’

‘I’m not sure if I can last that long,’ he said and sneaked a finger into the bowl with the creamy red spread. He moaned with delight when he licked it off. ‘Mmmh, delicious.’

James turned his head and kissed him. ‘You’re delicious too,’ he said in a whisper when they parted. He gave him another quick kiss. ‘I have to finish this, and your hands around my body aren’t making it any easier. They will be here soon.’

‘I know,’ Q grunted into James’ back. Reluctant, he let go of him, but not before he dipped his finger in the spread once more with a cheeky grin.

He went back to the living room. Tesla took over his favourite spot on the sofa. He knew better than to force the cat out, so he sat down on the other side. He brushed the cat’s back, and Tesla purred with content.

(He could be like this too, with James. His electrifying touches were enough to keep him satisfied for days and make him purr like a cat.)

Tesla’s large shining eyes stared into Q’s. He scooped him up and let him lie in his lap, the suit be damned. He could stretch his legs and wait for the guests in warm comfort.

For a second, the reminiscence of the day James had broken into his flat with a gunshot in his stomach and bled all over this sofa returned to him. Oh, how long ago it had been.

That day had been one of the worst days in his life, but also one of the best ones, for that reason or the other. Good and bad sometimes stood so close you couldn’t tell one apart from the other, and sometimes they were one, indistinguishable. Good and bad were not determined precisely to the point, and never were exact opposites––Missy had taught him that, the lesson she had failed to teach her Doctor many times over.

Q closed his eyes. Tesla rested on his stomach, swinging his tail in the air placidly. There was presently nothing interesting on TV, and he had promised James and Eve he wouldn’t touch his laptop till the 2nd. He had broken his promise a couple times, but not now, not today. He had nothing better to do, really.

Time flew like a river. Minutes came and went like sticks floating on the surface when his eyes were closed. What he considered to be five minutes were actually twenty; James told him as much when he woke him up.

‘Their TARDIS has landed,’ he said also. That was strange. Q heard no noise, no handbrake.

He quickly got up, disturbing the dozing Tesla, who leapt on the ground. He buttoned his jacket and removed as much cat hair as he could see on the dark blue. James has put on a jacket as well, a burgundy one. Q didn’t remember him ever wearing red.

It was the colour of Gallifrey and his Chapter, of course. Today, it was a necessity.

They walked into the kitchen. It wasn’t there. The blue box Q had expected wasn’t there. Instead, a tall wooden cupboard collided with the table and ate one of the chairs.

A deja vu overtook him. But there were no sinister bells tolling from within the TARDIS or little blue-eyed girls standing in the doors. Just James, lacing his fingers with Q’s. He looked utterly gorgeous in that jacket red as blood.

The doors pulled open. It was the Doctor. He wore a smile on his stern old face and a black coat over a grey T-shirt. His boots were caked in purple mud. ‘Hello, Q,’ he said and spread the alien mud all over the tiles. He looked at James. ‘James. We’ve, er, brought you something.’

Missy stepped out of the strange TARDIS next. She was holding a tall metal bottle engraved with Gallifreyan symbols, and Q could only wonder what was inside. She gave his apparel a once-over. ‘I see you’ve put on something that doesn’t murder with the hideousness of colours for once, Quincey,’ she observed. She’s put on a midnight blue trousers and a plum silken blouse with a rather low neckline and an obsidian necklace that shone darkly and glistened with every move, elegant and cold like agent 004. ‘I don’t like it.’

She kissed James on the cheek and handed him the bottle. ‘Excellent choice,’ he nodded, ‘but are you sure we should give the only thing that can get a Time Lord drunk to Q?’ There was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

‘At least we’ll have more fun,’ Missy answered before Q could say anything. The Doctor sat in the remaining chair, and she used the table.

Q took the dangerous bottle from James’ hands and scolded him with a look. ‘I beg to differ. There will be no drinking of whatever this drink might be in my flat. You’ve got enough of a drinking problem as it is. I’m putting it away.’ He turned to the fridge, but he failed to realise the cupboard was standing between him and the rest of the kitchen.

What was more, another person stepped out of the TARDIS. In her flowing red robes, she looked like a queen. Maroon curls fell on her shoulders in wild waves, and dark-painted lips contrasted her latte-coloured skin. Q offered his hand. ‘Madam President. My names is—’

‘Q, yes, I know. I’ve heard all about you,’ she finished and shook his hand. ‘And for this evening, I am Equinaran, so please, call me that. I apologise for this,’ Equinaran glanced at her cloak, ‘I didn’t have time to change. Let me fix it.’ She pressed one of her earrings, and in a second, trousers similar to Missy’s and a golden shirt replaced the presidential cloak.

MI6 could use such a clever device.

She turned round. Into the TARDIS, she called, ‘Vera, come here! We’re waiting for you!’

Q laid the bottle on the counter and rejoined James. ‘You forgot to tell me your sister was a bloody goddess,’ he whispered.

‘You’re making me jealous, darling.’ James was looking at Equinaran.

Vera ran out of the TARDIS with laughter and closed the door behind her. She looked at least two years older than the last time, but her piercing blue eyes were still the same. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing a green dress. She waved at Q.

He waved back with one hand and gave James’ arse a squeeze with the other. ‘I wouldn’t worry; I still like this better.’ James smiled at him wickedly.

Vera stole a piece of baguette and flung herself on the floor at Missy’s feet. ‘This is good!’ she said with her mouth full of cheese.

Equinaran pulled a key out of a trouser pocket. She aimed it at her TARDIS. ‘I’m sorry about this too,’ she said before she sent it away with the key.

Q took the tray with the baguettes. ‘Thank you,’ he said to her and cleared his throat nervously, ‘and now when we’re all here, we can move to the living room.’ He moved past Missy and the Doctor, and finally relaxed.

He pretended he didn’t see James grabbing the dangerous drink and hiding it behind his back as he followed him out of the kitchen.

The tray ended up on the coffee table and brought Tesla’s interest at once. Once he found out there was no meat on the menu, he ran off to the bedroom. Equinaran sat down in one of the armchairs and Missy in the other. The Doctor with James and Vera took the sofa—and Q had nowhere to sit.

He looked round and chuckled. ‘Um, I haven’t thought of this. Let me just fetch a chair.’

Missy hummed in agreement. James got up. ‘I’ll bring some glasses,’ he said. The bottle stood next to the tray, from which two more baguette slices have been eaten. ‘And the rest of the food. You must taste all of Earth’s delights, sister.’

‘Oh, I have travelled the universe more than you’d think, and tasted everything it had to offer. Why, I _am_ seven hundred years old.’ She pushed a strand of curly hair behind her ear with long, slender fingers.

Q stopped dead in his track. ‘I beg your pardon, Equinaran; you are seven hundred years old?’

‘729, actually,’ she answered. The 29 years she looked, but not more than that. ‘Gallifreyan years, of course. I’d be around 1,800 on Earth.’

‘Blimey, that’s a lot,’ he said before he could stop himself. ‘Not that you’re old, Madam President, no, you’re beautiful, everyone would say so. Sorry, I’ll go and bring my chair.’

He strode to the kitchen, a blush creeping along his cheeks. _Stupid Q_. That was utmost embarrassing. He seized the chair, perhaps a bit too harshly, and made his way back.

He didn’t see James entering the kitchen.

‘Fuck, I’m sorry!’ He hit his belly with the seat. It must have hurt. He put the chair down. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Fit as a fiddle, Q,’ he said and walked round the chair. He cupped Q’s face and leant close enough for Q’s lips to reach. ‘As one can be at 735 years.’ Q’s eyes widened. James kissed him, and Q kissed him back.

‘Happy New Year, darling,’ he murmured against Q’s lips.


End file.
